


Twenty-four By Thirty-six

by RedpathArcade



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Not any of the 118, One of Eddie's army buddies, Sad Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedpathArcade/pseuds/RedpathArcade
Summary: "I love you, Evan.”The gift of that one sentence filled Buck's chest with warmth, and suddenly, he pulls back, lips colliding against Eddie. The soft brush of lips, gentle yet deliberate and Buck's heart explodes in his chest.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 156





	Twenty-four By Thirty-six

Buck knew the instant Eddie walked into the Firehouse something was wrong. At first he feared something happened to Christopher, but Eddie quickly explained, through tears, how earlier that morning he had gotten a call from an old Army friend's wife, that her husband had died overseas. An old buddy of Eddie's, a medic like Eddie himself. A close comrade in war.

The funeral was to be held later that week, one in his friends hometown, and another here. Apparently his in-laws lived in LA and weren't able to make it down to his hometown. 

A blessing in disguise, in a way. It meant that Eddie would be able go to the more local one. Bobby giving Chim and Buck the day off so Eddie wouldn't be alone.

The funeral was small, the family quite, as they've probably spent the last week in grief, tired and soft tears instead of harsh ones now spilled down their cheeks. 

Allen James, was the fallen soldiers' name. His hair was buzzed in the photographic portrait that stood on a stand, blowing ever slightly as the wind picked up. There was no coffin, his body already buried back in his hometown.

Eddie wasn't dressed in a fitted suit, like he was when Sharron died, but instead he was wearing his Army uniform.

And Eddie looked so… _old_.

“I hate this.” Buck muttered to his right, where Chim sat.

Chimney gave him a soft hum and discreetly looked sideways, “Breath, Evan.”

Buck frowned, he hadn't realized he wasn't breathing. Finally he managed to rasp in a shaky breath. He caught Eddie's glaze as the man looked at him, concerned pooled in his rich brown eyes, and Buck silently cursed to himself. Eddie shouldn't be looking at him like that, he should be morning the lost of his friend. Not concerned about him. Buck mentally kick himself for once again managing to make it all about him.

So, Buck drew his eyes away from Eddie, and focused on breathing. He was trying, but it was hard, funerals weren't his thing. Never were, never will be. 

Because it doesn't matter how good of a solider you are, you couldn't survive a bullet to the head. And it was a shitty reminder that Eddie had once been out there, in danger like James'. That this could have easily have been Eddie. Some handsome twenty-four by thirty-six studio portrait smiling down at them.

So all in all, this particular funeral, just fucking sucks.

The 118 would be seated in the front row on the quayside, they'll be saluting, and the litany of heroism, and the fucking volley of gunfire. And then - _fuck_ \- then the folded flag - which they'd give to his parents. Because Buck would be outside all this. He'd be nobody.

* * *

It wasn't until they arrived back at Eddie's house - Christopher away for the night - hours later, that Buck and Eddie got a chance to speak.

“You know what, Eddie?” Buck asked, wishing he could drink on blood thinners, cause if he was going to have this conversation, he was going to need some liquid courage, “I hate the uniform. Definitely not a turn on for me.”

Eddie looked down at himself, puzzled. At which part of Buck's outburst the younger man wasn't sure, “You hate the uniform?”

Buck sighed in relief that Eddie didn't linger on the comment, then he groaned, throwing himself down onto the sofa, “Well, _no_. I love the uniform. You look _ridiculously_ hot in it, but I fucking hate the uniform.”

“Evan,” Eddie spoke carefully, disappointment heavy in his voice, “You're not making sense, are you drinking? You know the blood thinners-"

"Fucking wish I was,” Buck cut him off looking up at Eddie, “I don't want the flag.”

There was a shocked silence, before Eddie shook his head, “What?”

“ _Ever_ ,” He said loudly, getting off the sofa and jabbing Eddie in the chest, “All right, you idiot? I mean seriously I have no interest in getting that flag. But at the same time,” - _jab_ \- “You gotta know,” - _jab_ \- “I _want_ the fucking flag.”

“Hey,” Eddie whispered, catching Buck's hand and resting it over his heart - Buck's fingers instantly curling into the soft fabric of his uniform - his eyes clear with concern, “You can have it. Buck, you can have it.”

His voice was soft and serious, and Buck believed him. He let out a sob, stumbling into Eddie's chest.

Eddie gave a small laugh -the first one since James' had died- and wrapped his arms around the younger man, kissing the top of his head, “I love you, Evan.”

The gift of that one sentence filled Buck's chest with warmth, and suddenly, he pulls back, lips colliding against Eddie. The soft brush of lips, gentle yet deliberate and Buck's heart explodes in his chest.

When Buck pulls back, there's a soft smile playing on his lips and his fingers trace the outline of it lazily.

“I love you too, Eddie." Buck murmured before he pulls him in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank-you for reading. If you have a chance please Kudos/Comment. I love responding to comments. Even if you just put a bunch of random letters or a heart! It honestly makes my day.


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